On the Run
by Tenko
Summary: A/U: B/V, KK/CC, K/18, G/V. Bulma follows through on her plans of assassinating Vegeta. Yamcha shows 18, Chi-Chi, & Videl their next bounties; Krillin, Goku, & Gohan! Will Bulma kill Vegeta? Will the bounty huntresses get their cash? R for language.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing at all!  Not even my Trunks! :(  Wait a tic...he's not even in this story!!!  As far as I know, I own the idea?

**Summary**:  Vegeta owes money and supplies to an underground weaponry.  In turn, the weaponry hires a beautiful blue-haired assassin to take Vegeta out.  Vegeta, in a last ditch effort, drags Krillin, Gohan, and Goku into the scene.  The assassin then drags her bounty hunter associates, 18, Videl and Chi-Chi into the picture. (You just think about the couples...)

**Important Information**:  As aforementioned, this is an A/U, so there are a few changes.  The time period doesn't matter at the current time, but no one's together.  Now, I bet you're wondering how this is also a Gohan/Videl fic, correct?  Thought so.  Well, pretend Gohan is only Goku's son and not Chi-Chi's.  Yes it's silly, but there are not enough G/V fics out there, in my opinion.  Gohan's mother had previously died.  Oh and, Gohan is 19 as well as Videl.  Keep in mind, this is a prologue.  Whoops, forgot to say; everyone's human.  There are no super powers involved.  The normal martial artists are still martial artists, however.

**********

**Prologue**

            "What do you mean I owe you one billion dollars?!"  Vegeta bellowed at his aggressors.  

            "And another million in weapons and biological  warfare," the gruff voice of Piccolo replied.  He was a lackey for Yamcha, the man who runs the underground weaponry "Rat-Pack".   Piccolo's partner, Tien, kept a stern watch on Vegeta.  He was almost daring him to make an attempt at escape.

            "Well, if I owe so much money, then why doesn't the 'Great Yamcha' come see me in person?" he smirked. "I see, he's still sending his little lap dogs out to do his dirty work, ne?"

            "Shut the fuck up, Vegeta.  We're just the messengers.  You'll have his money and supplies in exactly one week.  You will meet the Rat-Pack at Grand Station Park at exactly midnight.  The statue of Mr. Satan.  If you are even one second late, or don't show; we'll kill you," before Vegeta could dodge, Piccolo had delivered a swift punch to his gut as a reminder. "And I assure you, Vegeta, we'll kill you slowly."

            The two men walked away, leaving Vegeta doubled over on the sidewalk.  What the hell was he supposed to do now?  There was no way he could get a billion dollars together--let alone the weapons!  

            "Shit!" he cursed.  He picked himself off of the ground.  The short man wondered around the Grand Station Park, which is, coincidently, where his run-in occurred.  Finding nothing better to do, he entered a local bar that was run by his two friends.

            Well, Goku Son (a tall good natured man) was his friend.  Krillin, his partner, was an annoying bald runt as far as Vegeta was concerned.  Then there was Gohan.  In his opinion, Gohan was a tolerable black-haired teenager.

The bar's business was normally quite good, but tonight it was fairly barren.  Even most of the regulars were gone.

            "Hey, Vegeta!"  Goku called out while cleaning an old mug.  

            "Kakarot," Vegeta said with a nod.  Kakarot was what Vegeta called Goku.  To everyone else, it seemed strange, but it was the turn out of a long standing inside joke.  Goku and Vegeta always figured that it kind of, well, stuck. 

            "Whatcha up to?"  he grinned a goofy grin that had been dubbed his trademark.

            "Trying to survive," Vegeta muttered.  He took a seat at the bar as Krillin and Goku's son, Gohan, came out from the back.

            "Oh, hello Vegeta," Gohan said politely.  The poor boy became sort of a geek after his mother died.  Vegeta simply nodded in acknowledgment. 

            "Hey Vegeta, why'd you say you were trying to survive?"  Goku inquired with a puzzled look on his face.  He was quite the simple one; an excellent fighter, nonetheless.  Vegeta found the brain capacity difference between father and son to be humorous. 

            Krillin slid him a Budweiser.  "I owe the Rat-Pack a billion dollars..."

            "Nani?!  How is that even possible, Vegeta?"  Krillin exclaimed.  Vegeta cast him a dark glare.

            "...and another million," he took a swig of his drink, "in weapons and biological shit."  

            "Gosh Vegeta, that's some serious crap you're in!"  Gohan piped in.

            "Aren't you quick?" he sneered.  "It's possible, Short-Stuff, because I was making a delivery, and it went sour.  It was a total setup!  The only reason I actually lived through the damned ordeal was the fact that the truck was bullet proof!  It was either get killed by them or killed by the Rat-Pack; so, I distributed the money into several bank accounts and sold _most_ of the weapons on the black market.  The biological shit they had...well, the government got an anonymous tip, so to speak.  I think they destroyed it or something.  Either way it's unrecoverable."

            "Wow!  I dunno what's more surprising; the fact that Yamcha hasn't tracked down and killed you yet, or the fact that you actually did a good deed with the biological stuff!"  Krillin quipped.   Vegeta downed his drink and swirled the remaining foam around the cup.

            "I dunno what's more surprising; the fact that I haven't kicked your ass yet, or the fact that I haven't made you eat your words,"  he said without real venom.  He was dead in a week, so what'd be the point of getting back at Baldy?

            "Do you need any help, Vegeta?"  Goku butted in with his good hearted nature.

            "I don't _want_ your help, but you've already helped me, Kakarot."

        "Huh?  How's that?" 

        "Well...some of those bank accounts happened to be," he paused to clear his throat, "your's, Baldy's, and the brat's."

        "WHAT?!?!" the three men yelled in unison, startling one of the drunk regulars out of his slumber.

        "Huhn?  What's with-the yellin' Gokin?"  asked the drunk.

        "Uhh...nothing, Greg...Go back to sleep?"  Goku said through a sweatdrop. 

        "Alrigh then..." the man passed out again.  The others stared for a moment before shaking their heads and moving on.

        Vegeta rapped his fingertips on the bar's countertop.  "I had no where else to put it without it looking suspicious."

        "Vegeta!  You could have at least ASKED first!"  Goku exclaimed. 

        He shrugged, "Oh well.  I'm dead in a week, so you should be thankful that you'll be getting any cash at all."        Gohan was quite angry to be involved in such horrid actions, but Vegeta's nonchalant demeanor was odd.

        "So that's it?  You're going to just let them kill you?"  Gohan burst angrily.  Vegeta had always had such a tough look on life, so this melancholy disposer was, quite frankly, scaring him.

        He raised an eyebrow at Gohan.  "I don't see why you care, Kid."

        "You've always been tough jerk, Vegeta!  Why stop now?!  You've NEVER turned down a challenge, but you're just gonna give in to a person like YAMCHA?!"  Gohan chastised him. 

        "Yeah, Vegeta!  I've known you forever and this isn't like you at all!"  Goku joined in with his son.

        "Yep, I have to say I agree.  You've always been a pain in the ass, why stop now?"  Krillin took his chance to jump in.

        Vegeta sneered at them.  "You're all a bunch of morons!  But after you're little rants, you're all now officially involved!  You can die right along side me!  You should feel honored."

        The others sweatdropped as Vegeta laughed. 

*******************

A/N:  Well, that's done.  I have the habit of writing long prologues... -_-'  I'm debating whether or not to continue... Now, I was planning on waiting until I've finished the whole fic to post, but I want to know if I should even continue!  *I know I have the worst habit of taking forever on fics, but if this one goes well; I'll try keep off of my lazy ass*


	2. Chap. 1: Gathering For the Race

Disclaimer: Why the hell put a disclaimer when you know from the prologue that I own nothing that doesn't belong to me by right!  o.O  This disclaimer stands for the rest of the story; I own nothing!! NOTHING!  Well, 'cept maybe the idea of the underground weaponry thing and such...*shrugs*

******************

**Chapter 1: Gathering For the Race**

            A week had come and gone far too quickly for the four bar rats.  They'd spent the past week doing nothing but intense martial arts training.  All of them were pure masters, who competed in the World Martial Arts Tournament, whenever they could.  However, much to Vegeta's displeasure, Goku was the strongest of them all.

            Gohan, the least suspicious looking of them, headed into the park earlier to scope it out.  He soon came back to report to his father.  

            "Yamcha's there.  Those two strange looking lackeys are there, too."

            "Anyone else?"  Vegeta inquired while taking a drag on a cigarette.

He didn't normally smoke, but under the circumstances he decided it would calm his nerves.  Sadly, the lit health hazard didn't calm him in the least.  

            "Yeah." 

            "Who?"  Goku asked.

            "People who are just 'normal citizens'.  They're sitting on park benches, jogging...they're all over the park,"  Gohan reported.

            "Yeah, I went to get a hotdog...even the damned vendor had the Rat-Pack's tattoo on his arm,"  Krillin added.  "Although, it just shows Yamcha's stupidity.  It's 11 something at night.  You'd think that normal citizens, and a hotdog vendor would be at home, or...anywhere but the park.  Heck, I think some of the bums are working for the Rat-Pack."

Vegeta nodded and looked at his watch; 11:58 P.M.  "Alright, I'm going."

"Hey wait a minute, Vegeta," Krillin began.

"What, Chrome Dome?"  

"Why even go into the park?  Why didn't you just out of town?"

            He threw his cigarette on the ground and put it out.  Vegeta said with a smirk, "It's a matter of principle.  Besides, I never turn down a challenge."

*****

            "Ahhh, Vegeta; the man with my goods!  How good of you to show up here at exactly--" Yamcha snapped his fingers, and Tien shoved a watch in front of his eyes, "--11:59 and 58 seconds.

            Vegeta shrugged.  "I have good timing."

            "The goods," Piccolo said coldly. "And you had better hope that it's in a dino-cap."

            "Oh, it is.  I would _never_ cheat the Rat-Pack." 

            "Well, I guess you're smart after all,"  Yamcha said smugly.  "Let's have it then, Vegeta."

            Vegeta reached into one of the pockets of the tan slacks he was wearing.  Before Vegeta could make a move to pull his hand out, Tien had a gun pointed at him.

            "Slowly, Vegeta.  I swear I'll strip the dino-cap from your dead hands if I have to,"  Tien said.

Yamcha chuckled to himself.  For, unbeknownst to Vegeta, he was going to be dead whether or whether not he produced the goods.  He was a liability risk.  

Vegeta scowled at Tien, but slowly produced a dino-cap from his pocket.  He pressed the top and tossed it in the gap between himself and the Rat-Pack.  It, as all capsules do, expelled it contents for all to see.

            What appeared from the capsule was not money, or weapons, but a gas mask and billowing smoke.  Vegeta quickly snatched the gas mask and strapped it on.  He thanked Kami for the new versions.  

            With his mask in place, he kicked the guns away from Tien and Piccolo's hands while they coughed.  He leapt into the air and delivered a quick kick to Piccolo's head, which snapped violently to the side.  Before the lackeys could focus, he sent a knife edge kick to Tien.  He flew backwards and landed with a sickening thud.  Yamcha, who had been incredibly surprised, fled the smoked area.  

            Vegeta went after his disappearing back, vaguely noticing the three other warriors taking out Yamcha's men behind him.  He soon caught up to him and a stand off initiated.    

            "This seems familiar, eh Vegeta?"  Yamcha called with a sick smirk on his face.  They circled.

            "Heh, yes it does," Vegeta spoke.

Soon after, he lunged at Yamcha.  A fierce flurry of kicks and punches flew between the two.  To the untrained eye, it was in unspeakably fast.  Vegeta, however, was holding back.  He knew he could kill Yamcha fairly easily for his skill was far greater.  However, he didn't know what was holding him back, but he figured he just wanted to add a second scar to his ugly mug.  

            Vegeta stood in his perfect fighting stance.  He was ready for any sort of attack; from Yamcha, that is.

            A grotesque crack was heard from the sound of a rifle butt connecting with flesh and bone.  Another one of Yamcha's minions had just struck Vegeta from behind!  Yamcha could be heard chuckling in the background.

            Hundreds of colors danced before Vegeta's muddy vision, and the acute pain of the blow seeped into his mind.  He was becoming more lightheaded and disoriented by the second.  It was quite surprising that he hadn't passed out cold by then.  He knew he was close to reaching the black abyss that was unconsciousness, though. 

            "Well, well, Vegeta...it would seem that you won't get to add a _second_ scar to my flesh today," he said cruelly. "Or any day for that matter.  Good riddance to bad rubbish as they say!"

            However, Yamcha's last few words were lost to Vegeta, for he had reached the point where his vision was gone and his mind was swimming in the throbbing pain.  _'And that's too damn bad...'_ was all he could manage to think before he passed out.

*****

            Vegeta slowly opened his eyes to see nothing at all.  Quickly, he blinked his eyes, and his previously failed vision slowly returned.  A few colors still danced before him.            

            "Hey Vegeta!  Glad your awake, Buddy!"  Goku called happily.

            "What the hell?"  he murmured as he sat up.

Sadly for Vegeta, sitting up was not the thing to do after suffering from such a blow as he had.  In turn, his head fell back on the pillow as a slur of curse words came from his mouth.

            "Vegeta _must_ be awake," Krillin said to Gohan as they walked into the room.  "Yep, I was right."

            "Walk in front of a bus, Shrimp,"  Vegeta told him.

            Krillin frowned.  "Can't you ever call me by my name?"

            "No."  Krillin sighed, but let it go.

            "So Vegeta, how're you feeling?"  Gohan asked as he secured some gauze to a wound on his arm.

            "Like I was hit with the butt of a rifle."

            "Coincidently, you were!"  Goku said cheerily, grinning like the idiot he was.

Vegeta just scowled.  "Where the hell are we?  And how come I'm not dead?"  

            "We're in the basement of my house.  You're not dead because _we_ took care of as many of Yamcha's men as we could and hauled ass with you on Goku's back.   Yamcha got away and so did those two strange minions of his.  Like fifty of his men are looking for us, or something,"  Krillin informed him.

            "Well that's just fucking wonderful...What happened to you, Kid?"

            "Oh, I got hit in the arm by one of the damn Rat-Pack members,"  Gohan replied.  "Hey, Vegeta?"

            "Wha?"

            "What did Yamcha mean when he said something about a second scar?"  Goku jumped in. 

            Vegeta shrugged off their question.  "He's just a nut case."

            "Uh-huh."  The antagonizing looks that he was receiving broke down his resolve.

            "Fine.  One time, Yamcha had this girl and pretty soon I came around.  I had no interest in her, but she was lusting after me.  Yamcha got pissed when she dumped him and came after me.  I got him with my blade on his face, and he got me across the chest and arm."  

            "How come you never told me this before?"  Goku asked, sounding a little offended.

            "'Cause it was none of your damn business,"  he sneered.

            "Huh...Hey Vegeta, how come Yamcha didn't just kill you instead of hiring you?"  Gohan inquired.

            Reluctantly, Vegeta continued in his tale.  "Back then, the Rat-Pack was being run by someone else.  We were both high on the chain.  Yamcha took over soon after and couldn't kill me because I was too damn good at my job."            "So, who was the girl?"  Krillin asked with a devilish smirk.

Gohan raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

            "I dunno.  Some accident happened when Yamcha and I got into our brawl.  I don't remember anything about the girl.  As far as I know, Yamcha doesn't either.  I heard that the woman lost a year's worth of memory.  She completely disappeared about a day after the accident happened,"  Vegeta concluded.

            "Gosh, sorry Vegeta,"  Goku said sympathetically.

            "Who cares?  It wasn't that important to me.  I've just got to worry about how the hell I'm going to live through this with a fucking concussion!"  he touched his head gingerly.  

            "Hmmm...Do you think that your setup drop-off was set up by Yamcha?  To get rid of you by making it seem like a deal gone bad?"  Gohan questioned.

            Vegeta looked shocked.  "That damn well may be it!  The bastard's been trying to get rid of me for a while...I should've seen it coming!"

            "Ahh, don't be so hard on yourself, Vegeta!"  Krillin attempted to sooth, but Vegeta just gave him a death look.

            "We should probably get the money and weapons and skip town,"  Goku said seriously.

            "That's the smartest thing you've said all day, Kakarot," Vegeta retorted. 

******************

A/N:  I hope you've all caught on to the humor (or just stupid pun) of Yamcha being the leader of the Rat-Pack and Vegeta once working for him.  Anyway, Yamcha may seem OOC, but however vulgar sounding the name of the weaponry; it's a very organized and sophisticated organization.  Yamcha has to have a rich, well-educated demeanor.   Oh well...Ja ne!


	3. Chap. 2: A Defeat and A Victory

**Chapter 2: A Defeat and A Victory **

****

            Yamcha and his two top underlings marched angrily back to their headquarters.  As Yamcha completed a few DNA scans and entered his office, Piccolo and Tien stood attentively at the door.

            "Man, Yamcha's not happy about Vegeta getting away with his life and the money,"  Tien commented.

            "That's obvious.  It's pointless though--Vegeta's a dead man walking.  And so are his little friends,"  Piccolo said snidely.  "The boss' plan with the setup should've work perfectly.  But, we forgot to take Vegeta's fighting experience into the picture."

            Tien nodded.  The thought of seeing that jackass Vegeta dead brought a cold smile to his lips. 

*****

            As Yamcha stepped into his dark office, he felt the presence of another person.  When the door slid closed, he reached for his gun, which sat in its holster on his waist.  He could smell the person's perfume in the air.

            The lights suddenly flashed on.  His gun was immediately cocked and facing the mysterious individual.  Just as he was about to shoot, he realized who was sitting on his desk.  He let out a quick sigh.

            "I'm going to shoot you one of these days Ms--"

            "_Miss_ Bulma,"  the bright eyed woman said.

She curled a lock of her blue hair with her fingers.  Yamcha had to admit that she was, indeed, quite sexy.

            She was clad in a revealing black gown that fell to her ankles.  The slits where high on her thighs and the neck was low; showing cleavage, but not enough so that she could be dubbed 'a slut'.  Her sleek, black high heals clinked lazily together as she gave Yamcha a cool smirk.

            She had fair skin, bright blue eyes, and her strange aqua hair was pulled back in an elaborate design that had no true name.  Her ears shown with sapphire earrings that gleamed in the light.  

            "I'm looking for a job, Yamcha," she examined her finely manicures nails.  "Do you have anyone that needs some special help moving on to the next life?"

            Yamcha smiled cruelly.  This girl--no--woman had perfect timing.  "Actually, I do."

            She raised a delicate eyebrow.  "Go on."

            "You remember that pointy haired bastard, Vegeta?  He needs some of your 'special help'."  

            "How much?  When?  Where is he?  Do you have a picture?"  she asked routinely.

            "Umm, honestly, we don't know where he is.  You can have one million dollars of the sum he owes us.  As soon as possible and he has three friends that need to be taken care of," Yamcha answered.  He walked to his files and retrieved a picture of Vegeta. "This is him."

            "If you want four people dead, then I want four million," she stated while taking the picture.

            "Honestly!  You assassins are so greedy!"

            "We have to be," she smiled sweetly, although he could sense the venom behind it.          

This woman was a true enigma.  She could at one moment, be a complete airhead; the next, a deadly professional; a moment later, the being that could bring men to their knees.  No one ever knew what she was thinking and no one could see through her perfect masks.  She was one of the best assassins in the business, who had never let Yamcha down before.  

"We'll discuss your pay after the four are dead." 

"I'm sorry, that won't work for me," she said monotonously. 

"What?"

"I don't even know what these four have done or who the other three are and you want me to take them down without pay?!" 

Yamcha snarled.  "Fine then, I'll call you when I have all of the information."

"Good." she retorted as she slinked out of his office.

She threw a card with her business information at his feet.

*****

            Instead of skipping town, like they had previously planned, they transferred out all of the stolen money from Krillin, Gohan, and Goku's accounts to Vegeta's various ones.  Since no one had seen their faces, the other three were fairly safe.  So now, Vegeta laid low in the basement of Goku and Krillin's bar.   

A week after Yamcha's run-in with the assassin, his two most infamous minions came in the bar; very nonchalant.  At first, Goku panicked, but after a save from Gohan, kept up a cool facade. 

            "Uhh, what can I getcha?"  Goku tried acting normal.

            "Have you seen this man?"  Tien held a picture of Vegeta out.

            "No!  Never!"  Goku replied quickly.

Vegeta, who could hear from his current position, smacked his forehead.  Kakarot needed acting lessons...badly.  Fortunately, Krillin came to his aid.

            "Oh that guy?"  Krillin asked, pretending to be clueless.

            "Of course," Piccolo growled.  Krillin gulped.

            "Yeah, he used to come around.  I haven't seen him for weeks though."

            "If you see him; tell him he's a dead man.  The Rat-Pack's after him."

            Krillin took a couple of steps back, frightened by the man's tone of voice.  "Uhh...sure thing, Man."

            "Good," the two men left as quickly as they had come.

***** 

            "They're hiding something," Piccolo said to Deserrei, a female operative.

She merely nodded in response and pulled out a cell phone. 

            "Background check," she glanced at the bar's title and shook her head in disgust, "'Barrel Of Monkeys'."

            With that done, the three drove away in a black sedan.  

*****

            Two days later, Yamcha stood grinning at the paperwork before him.  Ah yes...the three were papers on the three people who helped Vegeta out.  He also had more information on Vegeta with him.

            At first, Yamcha had thought it strange that Vegeta had people helping him, but now it made sense.  You see, he knew that the money was in their accounts, so they were obligated to help.  

            Oh well, all three would die and Yamcha's life would be easier.  He grinned mischievously.  _'Oh happy days...'_

*****

            Bulma screwed on the silencer and closely examined her gun.

            "Oops!" she giggled lightly at her mistake.

The safety was on!  

            With it now off, she took her place behind a booth at an opera.  She felt...so much like the assassin who took out Lincoln.  Had her victim dreamt about his demise as Lincoln had?

            Her devilish smile turned to a frown as the wailing voice of an opera singer floated into her ears.  Maybe she'd kill her, too.  She'd certainly be saving the men in the audience some time.

            Her gun was positioned perfectly in her purse, so no one could see it.  She, being the genius that she was, easily evaded the metal detectors and security.  Her purse (with the gun, of course) was swaying at her side as she adjusted herself into position. 

            Her hand reached into the expensive bag and she extracted, not her gun, but her eyeliner.  Which, in turn, she 'accidentally' dropped.  As she bent down to pick it up, her eyes found the hole she'd made nights before. 

            The eyeliner was placed back in her purse and her hand was on the trigger...

            "Damn it!" she cursed aloud.

After receiving several strange looks from bystanders, she apologized and answered her ringing cell phone.

            "What?" she hissed.

            "Testy are we?"  Yamcha asked, snootily.

There was a sound of large applause and murmuring voices from inside the theater. 

            "Thanks to you, my...'client' got away...before I could 'help' him."

            "Oh, so terribly sorry.  You'll get him later?"  his sarcasm was evident.

            "Go to hell, unless you have an actual job for me."

            "I have information on the three friends of Vegeta and more on Vegeta."

            "That's lovely, Yamcha, but there is the matter of money."

            He sighed. "I'll give you a half a million as a...down payment and another half after he's been dealt with."

            "And how much do I get paid for the friends?" she asked as she headed to exit the opera house.  

            "..."

            "Yamcha?"

            "We'll discuss that after they're dead."

            Bulma frowned.  Oh well, at least she would come out of this with a million dollars in her pocket.  "I'll kill Vegeta, but not his friends.  You put a bounty on their heads and I assure you that I have some...associates that will deal with them." 

            Yamcha wondered how secure the phone line was, but quickly dismissed the thought.  "What kind of bounty should go on their heads?  To attract these, associates of yours?"

            "Hmmm, I'd say put 333,333 dollars on each of their heads.  It's a roughly a million split three ways."

            Yamcha did NOT want to lose two million dollars on four incompetent fools!  "You expect me to pay two million dollars to kill four idiots?!"

            "Exactly, Yamcha."

            "...Fine," the line went dead.

            She smirked and placed her cell phone in her purse.

            "Hah!  I'd rather walk than go home in such filth!"  Bulma spun around.

A wide grin spread across her face. 

            Her victim had gotten into a fight with their driver.  

            "Hi!  Good help's so hard to find nowadays, huh?"  Bulma said sweetly.

            The man sighed.  "Yes, quite hard.  What's a beautiful young lady such as yourself standing around here for?"            "Oh, I was just coming from that _lovely_ opera.  You seem to need a ride...my limo is just around the corner.  Please, take it!  I'll get a cab."

            "I could do no such thing--"

            "But I insist!  You can't just take a cab...someone of your status!  Pah!  I wouldn't allow it!  Come now, come now!  It's just around the corner," she said persistently. 

            "Well...I suppose I can't turn down such a pretty lady's offer,"  Bulma beamed as she directed him towards her nonexistent limo.

As he turned the corner and entered a building to take a 'shortcut' to the 'limo', he found himself trapped.

            Meanwhile, Bulma nonchalantly walked into another entrance to the building (when she felt that no one was paying attention).  

            "What's going on here?!" her prey shouted.

            "Oh nothing...just a little assassination," she said darkly from the shadows.

He began to back away, but stopped dead in his tracks as he felt the cold steel of a gun in the back of his head. 

            "See you in the next dimension."

**********

I saw the Aurora borealis in OHIO!  OHIO of all places to see the Northern Lights!  It was just great!  (Nov. 5th 2001)

Uhh...thanks to the three people who reviewed...I guess I'll continue...for now...

Next time: We'll finally meet the bounty hunters.  Bulma follows through on her plans of assassinating Vegeta, and Yamcha reveals a startling secret.


	4. Chap. 3: The Irony of Revenge

**Chapter 3: The Irony of Revenge**

            Yamcha sat comfortably in his office chair wallowing in the irony of it all.  No...not the irony, but the poetic justice of it.  Vegeta would be killed by the woman who had once chased after his love.

            You see, no one knew that Yamcha remembered the accident.  He had kept it a secret for a few months.  Of course, Bulma had already been the top assassin for the Rat-Pack so he couldn't just kill her, or Vegeta.  That's why he was going to take her out after she killed Vegeta.

Of course this whole idea to kill them both subtly was pure revenge.  That was beside the point as far as Yamcha was concerned, however.  What was it about revenge?  It's a dish that's best served cold?  True.  Revenge is so sweet?  

"Incredibly true," he whispered with a deadly look in his eye.  

He began to wonder how he had lost his love, Bulma, to a person such as Vegeta...

He had loved her unconditionally until he came along.  She took one look at him and his technique and the little tramp immediately lusted after him.  By doing so, she betrayed him and in turn left him.  

Bulma had always been an assassin, and that was one of the most alluring things about her.  Well, that's how Yamcha felt.  He knew she could always protect him and he, her.  It was quite a sweet deal.

Although Yamcha remembered her and everything they had...he wasn't quite sure of how the accident happened.  It was a complete blur so nothing could be certain.

"Sir?" the door opened revealing Piccolo.

"What is it?" Yamcha asked, annoyed that his thoughts were interrupted. 

"There are three bounty hunters here to see you, Sir."

Yamcha raised an eyebrow.  "Send them in."

The door closed behind Piccolo, only to open moments later to reveal three unimpressed looking bounty hunters.  The first one who came in had fair skin, black hair, and piercing ebony eyes.  The second was younger, about nineteen, and had black hair and blue eyes.  The final bounty huntress had blonde hair that came just above her shoulders and cold blue eyes.  Yamcha absentmindedly thought that the third looked like a cat.

Oh well...in this game, first impressions weren't all that important.

"We see you have a bounty on three men.  333,333 dollars a piece.  We came to get more information," the younger of the three said.

"Bulma sent us, so I hope this deal isn't false.  That would be a waste of time...and I can't stand wasting time," the blonde said menacingly.

The black eyed lady simply nodded.

Yamcha leaned back in his black leather chair.  "This deal is not a setup, I assure you, Ladies.  Before we, uh, get more into the deal, I'd like to know your names."

"Our names are not important," the one with ebony eyes responded.

"If you don't want me to inform other bounty hunters of this, then you will tell me your names."

The blonde scoffed.  "Black mail...Alright then, Yamchew--"

"Yamcha," he said vehemently.

"Alright then, _Yamcha_, my name's Eighteen," at Yamcha's raised eyebrow, she added, "and my father was very dull.  Another word of it, and you'll be my next bounty."

"I'm Chi-Chi and one reference to a portion of the female body, and I'll be next in line for your head," the elder of the black haired women revealed.

"Videl...No relation to Mr. Satan," the youngest said quickly.

"Good, good,"  Yamcha said. 

Of course, he had already done a thorough background check on these three ladies.  Although they covered their tracks well, he knew of each of their interesting backgrounds.  The one called Chi-Chi was the runaway daughter of the Ox King, making her a princess.  Eighteen was the daughter the infamous scientist Dr. Gero, who was famous for his scientific research in robotics.  Finally, Videl, another runaway daughter.  The great Mr. Satan, the "strongest man in the world", was her father. 

He also knew that Bulma was the runaway daughter of the illustrious Dr. Briefs.  Dr. Briefs was the owner of the Capsule Corporation.  He created much of the things that were used worldwide, including dino-caps.  However, her past was to be dealt with at another time. 

The bounty hunters were important now.  

"Do we get the information now?"  Videl asked.  

This was only her third time going on a hunt.  She had only teamed up with the other ladies a few months ago, and they had made her train more than her father had.  Videl was a great martial artist and was regarded as one of the strongest women in the world, thus making her a valuable asset to the team.

Yamcha smiled.  "Of course, Ladies.  Follow me."

The three women followed him to a hidden door in the north wall of his office.  This room was filled with files, pictures, and newspaper clippings--amongst other things.

"What is this room?" Chi-Chi asked quizzically while squinting in the dim light.

"This room is filled with the people who have betrayed the Rat-Pack ever since it began twenty years ago," Yamcha informed them.

"Oh.  Well...you need to clean in here; there's dust everywhere!"  Chi-Chi scolded…one of the most powerful men on the planet Earth.

            In the mean time, Bulma was preparing to kill this Vegeta person.  He'd bring her in a hefty bounty that would keep her work load to the minimum.  To Bulma, this assassin business was getting dull...all of her prey was so easy to kill.  _Although, I am one of the best._

            To her, it was a game.  Each one of her targets was a level, or an obstacle in the level she was on.  With knowing that Yamcha needed her to take out one man...she felt that Vegeta would be a level all by himself.  This was a level she'd gladly take on, mind you.

            "Telescope and night vision goggles for observing the target; check.  Sniper riffle in case of a failed attempt; check.  PP7, or as I like to say, Pea-Shooter; check," she sniggered as she checked off her favorite gun.  She had favored the old 007 video game that allowed you to use one, and afterward she got a hold of a PP7.  She had loved it ever since.  She paused as she thought what else she needed.  "Silencer; check.  Hmmm...alibi in the _extremely_ unlikely chance that I'd get caught; check.  Target's picture...no check."

            She frowned and scrambled around her apartment that was located in the inner-city.  After throwing around dirty clothes and trash from her last self-pity binge, she found the picture...along with one of her father, mother and herself.  Bulma smiled fondly as she remembered when the picture was taken.

            She had been a happy eleven-year-old spoiled girl.  Her parents and herself had been on a business meeting in America.  Oh how she missed those times...those times of being pampered and loved...but then again, that's life.

            With a sigh, she pulled her gaze away from her memories and focused on Vegeta.  Although, without even realizing it, her memories were being pulled forward again.  As she was staring at his stoic features, she couldn't help but to feel a tingle of...familiarity.  Nevertheless, she watched the picture float lazily down with her other supplies before capsulizing them. 

            _Maybe he's a part of that year I forgot..._  Oh well.  This wasn't the time to analyze the past.  

            After the incident at the bar three days ago, Vegeta had decided it best to just stay in his home.  You'd logically think that this would be the last place anyone would go if they were being tracked down, but Vegeta protested everyone's complaints...  

            "Vegeta," Gohan had said, "this is lunacy!  They'll find you if you stay at your house!  At least be smart about this!"

            "Yeah, Gohan's right,"  Goku had agreed with his son.  "There's no point in throwing your life away!"

            "I don't want to hear any of this nonsense!  I'm going home, and I'm going to stay there for now!  My welfare is none of your concern!"  he said crossly to them before stomping off.

            ...And so, Vegeta did go home.  His logic, you must understand, was that if they had already ransacked his home and took most of everything; then why would he come back?  He also thought that they'd think that he'd be 'too smart' to go there of all places.  They wouldn't watch it because they felt they had no reason to.

            Vegeta chuckled at the simplicity of his ingenious reason.  Of course, the downside was that his house was a complete mess, and all of his belongings, however few, were helter-skelter.  With great disdain, he picked up the few remaining remnants of his old life and put them on a random shelf, or table.  

            After he had quickly pulled all of the blinds down, he stared at the still offending mess.  His residence looked like a tornado had ravaged the place twice over!  His most expensive furniture was missing (presumably taken by the Rat-Pack, or common thieves), his priceless paintings were slashed and torn, his remaining furniture was in shreds, and the rest was just as bad. 

            Vegeta, you see, was used to living the life of royalty.  He was a super-elite member of the Rat-Pack and that came with many, many perks.  Now, that lifestyle was trashed.  Needless to say, he was furious at this.  Out of frustration he punched a hole in the already crumbling wall near his fireplace. 

            Bulma activated the preset coordinates on her jet plane so she commenced in fixing her disguise.  Her rule was that if one was going to kill another, it must be done incognito.  This was mainly because she didn't want anyone to know her true identity as Bulma Briefs.  Although, she was sure that Yamcha knew of her past.

            This mission's facade was that of a man.  Yes, the feminine Miss Briefs was cross-dressing for this assignment.  Thankfully, the only one who would see her would be dead shortly afterwards.

She planted a fake mustache on her face, as well as false eyebrows to cover her thinner blue ones.   She also wore a blue baseball cap and jogging outfit.  The baggy clothing would hide her more womanly features, and she could just trot out of there.  An innocent, or possibly slightly disgruntled middle-aged man.  Yes.  It was all perfect.

After straightening her mustache, she checked her position.  Good, only a few more minutes.  She sat back in her chair and rested her eyes, listening to some rock music of the yesteryears.  What song was it?  Ah, "Forest"  by System of a Down.  

She loved old rock...it was dramatic and yet soothing at the same time.  '_Walk with me my little child To the forest of denial'?  Hah!  Been there._

Beep, beep, beep!  

"Damn jet sounds like an alarm clock," Bulma moaned as she descended into a parking lot near Vegeta's house.  She quickly capsuled the car and began jogging down the sidewalk.  "Honestly...what kind of idiot would stay at their own home if they are being tracked down?"

She located the house easily enough.  All of the blinds were drawn, making her assume that he was hiding in there.  When looking at the house, she only glanced out of the corner of her eye as to not draw suspicion to herself.  She continued jogging around the block before cutting through several people's yards.  She hopped the occasional fence (first making sure no one was looking) until she landed in Vegeta's backyard.  

It was a mess.  Everything looked as it had been searched by a raging SWAT team.  Nonetheless, she scrambled up into a tree that had a perfect view of a window.  With the blinds drawn, she couldn't see what room it was, but that was just as well.  She had her equipment.  Besides, Vegeta wouldn't be stupid enough to come outside.

She quickly released her tool box and caught it just before it plummeted from the tree.  After wedging it between two branches, she opened the lid.  The assassin scanned through it, lazily swinging her sweatpants clad legs.  There it was!  Her sniper rifle's scope!  

Ever the quiet one, she pulled it out and focused it on the window.  She adjusted it accordingly and was able to make out some of the room's content through the cracks in the blinds.  _...A...sink, I think.  Hehe, a rhyme!  _

"Nah Jim!  I swear I saw some guy jump our fence!  Right into Mr. Saiyan's yard!" an elderly woman said while pointing.  

_Shit!  The neighbors!_  Bulma leaned against the trees bark, trying her best not to move. _Thank Kami for leaves..._

"Marie, you probably just saw a cat!  You're getting old you know!"  a disconcerted voice said.

"Jim!  I know what I saw!  It was a human!" Marie replied heatedly.

"Alright, alright.  What ever--whoever it was is gone now.  Lets just go back inside," the man took the woman's arm and led her back indoors.

Bulma breathed a sigh of relief.  If she would have been caught, her whole plan would have been ruined!

*******

I use dollars because, well, I can only count in dollars… ^!^;  *looks innocent*  

Will Bulma kill Vegeta after all?  *listens to readers* This is a B/V, so no way!  Not so fast!  This is my fic so I could make him die...there are heaven and hell in the DBZ world...there are dragon balls, too!  It's a mystery!!!  Bwuahahahaha! *cough*  And what about the bounty hunters?  Will they ever bring the guy's heads on a platter?  Will they collect their money?  Will I actually focus on them?  Does anyone even care?  Find out on the fourth chapter of On The Run! 

Disclaimer:  Obviously, I don't own "Forest" or System of a Down.  However, I do love the group and that song! ^!^


End file.
